That some high-born lady was within
the silken coverings of the palankeen every one surmised, and at this
extraordinary spectacle a hush of tense expectancy fell upon the
assemblage.
"But the silence changed to murmurs of amazement and admiration when a
queenly woman stepped upon the edge of the dais, and faced, not the
maharajah on his throne, but the nobles and courtiers and officers
clustered around.
"With a proud gesture she flung even the sari from her face, which the
play of the sunbeams among the jewels in her hair and around her neck
invested with a shimmering halo of radiance. On such a woman's face the
multitude had never looked before. But stately and unabashed, serene in
the purity of her womanhood, the dignity of her motherhood, and the
majesty of her rank, she raised aloft a hand, and spake aloud in tones
clear as the notes of a silver trumpet.
"'O nobles and O people, the royal son and heir of my husband, the late
maharajah, is alive, spared by divine Providence from the massacre of
his brothers and playmates in the seraglio of the palace. Many of you
know him well, and behold now he comes to claim his heritage.'
"As these words were spoken, the crowd again parted, and there stepped
forth the young prince, my protege.
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